


interrupted, made better

by anonfic61



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Coitus Interruptus, F/F, Oral Sex, except not really, fem!Baz Pitch, fem!SnowBaz, fem!simon snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29690439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonfic61/pseuds/anonfic61
Summary: More fem!snowbaz smut!It's Baz's birthday! Also, there isn't enough fem fic for me, so I wrote the Simon-walks-in-on-Baz trope with it.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	interrupted, made better

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Baz! I made it (barely)!

BAZ   
  


I can’t fucking stand this.

I just watched Simon Snow slay a horde of goblins like it was  _ nothing _ . Almost effortless, and covered in blood, and standing there panting with a wild grin after.

And it did  _ something  _ to me.

I know I’m messed up. I’ve long accepted it. I can understand why seeing her like that does this to me, and logically I knew this would happen when the goblins found us in the Woods. (She followed me out there, throwing more accusations.)(I let her, staying close enough she could track me easily. I’d hoped she would start a fight and pin me down.)

I’m so turned on. If I don’t get off right now I’ll die. 

I’ll leave a note.  _ Died of blue balls, courtesy of Simon Snow.  _ I’ll tell them to put it on my headstone. I’ve made it through eighth year - that’s already almost more than I expected.

I leave Snow to go to the infirmary or Bunce or whoever patches her up and go to our room. I’m going to throw myself on my bed and get off as fast as I can.

I prefer slow and through, but I’m aching. All of my dirty thoughts about her are coming up full force, with new fantasies fueled by what I just witnessed. I’m so wet already - I’m going to have to throw away these pants (burn them, more like) and if I wait much longer I’ll soak straight through.

I almost run up the stairs, and only the knowledge that other people are in their rooms stop me. I can’t risk my reputation.

I get to my room and throw myself on my bed. I’m tempted to steal Snow’s pillow, lay in it and pretend she’s behind me. I’ve almost stolen her pillow every summer since fifth year, just so I can have a little bit of her with me. (I haven’t. She gets back first, she would notice.)

I push my pants and trousers down around my thighs - I would take them off, but I’m too impatient - and sink two fingers in immediately. I’m so wet it drips down my hand, soaking into my bedspread. (I can’t bring myself to care just now.)

I can’t stop myself gasping, arching my back and thrusting desperately. I’ve been so pent up anything would feel good, even if I didn’t get off just like this almost every day last summer, imagining Snow in my place.

I push my other hand down and call up my favorite fantasy, one where Simon is pressing me down and trailing kisses lower and lower.

I’m almost there when the door slams open. I freeze, turning to meet Simon’s eyes, but it’s too late.

I’m coming harder than I ever have before, convulsing against myself. I pull my hands away as soon as it’s over, sitting up shakily and ignoring the aftershocks zinging through me.

Simon Snow just watched me orgasm, and now she’s standing there staring.

“Snow,” I say, trying to keep my composure. She blinks and opens her mouth, undoubtedly to stutter some nonsense about plots or some such.

I don’t let her. “In or out,” I snap, “And close the fucking door.”

She steps in and almost slams the door shut, still looking at me. My hands are sticky and shaking.

“What?” I snap. “It’s not my fault you can’t leave me alone for more than ten minutes.”

She blinks. “This is my room too, Baz.”

I’m glad I haven’t drank since last night. The blood is digested enough that I can’t blush, though my cheeks heat all the same.

There’s a silence, then, and it’s strange. Snow looks like she’s fighting another battle - this time with herself - and I don’t want to draw her attention back to me.

I’ve imagined it before, obviously. Snow bursting in, seeing me, and taking me right then and there. I never anticipated this silence, her expression. 

So I sit there with my pants and trousers still around my thighs and watch her. I see the second she makes up her mind, when her face turns determined and she looks at me like another fight. Like something to conquer.

Crowley, I want her to.

She steps forward, then again until she’s standing next to my bed. Snow looks down at me and I feel more exposed than I’ve ever been. I hate it. I love it.

I want to cover myself, but I don’t want to draw her attention to it. Me. The pants still around my thighs, because  _ she’s just standing there _ .

“Baz,” she says. I want to kill her. I want to kiss her.

I want to die.

I’ve never been more humiliated. But I’ve never been so aroused, either - with the exception of a few minutes ago.

“Baz,” she says again. I look at her.

There’s a glint in her eyes. Something like mischief, if mischief was devious.

“What’re you doing?” she asks lightly, almost playfully. I force myself to keep my face neutral.

“I think you know, Snow.”

She hums and sits on my bed, beside my legs. I’m petrified. I don’t move, just sit there and let her lay one warm hand on my still-clothed calf.

“I don’t think I do,” she tells me. 

“Crowley, Snow, do you want a demonstration?” I snap.

She grins. I get a feeling like I’ve just walked into a trap and closed the door behind me.

  
  


SIMON

She’s so pretty, sitting there. What I can see of her ears is flushed the lightest shade of pink, like flower petals.

Sitting there with her pants down, pretending I hadn’t caught her. But I did, and now I can finally  _ do  _ something.

I realized weeks ago I don’t hate her. It had been building for months, since August and I broke up, but the catalyst came when I was watching her football game. She was so graceful, so ruthless, and after I’d had to lock myself in our bathroom and wank. I’d been closer to dripping than I ever have before, then.

It had been a strange night, after. Realizing everything. There were so many signs I’d just ignored.

“Yes,” I say. She gapes.

I wait a minute, then two, but she doesn’t do anything. I decide to get things going and scooch up, leaning in.

I stop only a handspan away. Baz’s breathing is coming in fast, short pants. I wonder if her fangs are going to pop.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” I tease. “You offered the demonstration, Baz.”

She sucks in a whistling breath through her teeth.

She nods, short and sharp, then says “you too.”

I must look confused, because she clarifies. “You wank too, Snow.I’m not doing this on my own.”

Oh.

_ Oh _ .

This is a good idea. Wonderful idea. I almost throw caution to the wind and kiss her then, but I want her on the same page first.

“Ye-uh, yeah,” I half-stutter. I clear my throat and keep going. “But. First I want us on the same page, yeah? Like, with all of this,” I gesture between us.

She nods again, like a broken doll. Her eyes are here, though, ao I think it’s fine. 

“I like you,” I confess. The words feel raw in my throat. “I, uh, I want to date you. Like proper date you, not just sex stuff.”

Baz looks at me in silence for so long I’m afraid she’ll throw it all back at me. 

She doesn’t.

Instead, she says yes, and leans forward.

And  _ she  _ kisses  _ me _ .

  
  


BAZ

I can’t believe what she’s saying.

Except I can, because she’s here. Simon Snow is kissing me back, with her hands wound in my hair and her tongue in my mouth.

I could do this forever. I want to.

But then she pulls back and looks down and the sticky mess under me. 

“So, uh,” she starts, “should probably get that. Before we make more mess, I mean.”

I shake myself out of my daze.  _ (Simon Snow was kissing me. Simon Snow likes me.)  _ My wand is on the nightstand and I grab it, spelling away the cooling wet mess.

She smiles and kisses me again, briefly. I love it.

Snow - Simon - pulls away all too soon, but I can’t be mad. Not when she wrenches her shirt over her head and throws it aside, not when she reaches for mine.

I let her undress me and savour her hands on my skin. Soon enough I’m naked, laying on my bed and watching her.

Simon strips off her bra and she’s so perfect. My mouth waters just looking. I want to lick every inch of her, to sink my teeth in and tear away everything that keeps me from crawling into her ribcage.

I’d make a home there. In Simon Snow, and it would be the best thing to happen to me.

She takes off her trousers, next, and throws them to land with her shirt. She grins and it’s like nothing else. 

Then she straddles my waist, grinding playfully, and I lunge upward to catch her mouth. She kisses back, hot and wet, and the grinding turns less playful.

I love this.

It’s going to ruin me.

Simon pulls away, leaving kisses across my cheeks and down my neck. She stops to bite my collarbone and it makes me inhale sharply. She doesn’t miss my reaction. When she repeats it on the other side I can barely keep myself from moaning out loud.

Then she licks a hot stripe across my nipple and I really can’t stop myself.

  
  


SIMON

I kiss down her body and listen to the reactions it draws.

Baz makes lovely noises. Sometimes I go back to certain sports just to hear them again. I’m making a list in my mind of all of them.

Her breath hitches when I bite her collarbone.

She moans, high and breathy, when I lap my tongue across her nipple.

She gasps and jerks when I drag my teeth down her stomach.

And when I take her swollen clit in my mouth and suck she screams and thrashes under me.

I love her reaction, so I do it again. And again, licking and sucking until she’s soaked and shuddering and still trapped by her pants around her thighs.

Those won’t do. I sit up to drag them off her and throw them aside. I sling her legs over my shoulder when I lay back down.

She nestled her hand in my hair. I look up, meet her eyes. She’s panting, hips twitching towards my mouth, with quickly-fading marks all over her chest.

I grin and she smiles back breathlessly.

Then I sink one finger into her and watch her expression morph as she jerks up. She moans, loud and broken, and I pull back. 

I don’t know what I’m doing, but she seems to like it. Baz is humping my hand, making me move, so I push in another finger at the same time as I lick a long stripe from her entrence to her clit.

She comes then, and it’s just as beautiful as before. More - this time  _ I’m  _ the cause. 

I love seeing her like this.

I keep licking and fucking until she’s twitching and gasping with every movement of my fingers, until she drags my head away by my hair and kisses me, deep and filthy.

  
  


BAZ   
  


I didn’t think I could come harder.

Of course she had to prove me wrong. Simon Snow, disaster girl. Nightmare, who turns out to be good with her mouth.

I’m boneless and sated, but she hasn’t come yet. I pull away and urge her up.

She’d abandoned her pants at some point - I can see them piled with the rest of our clothes - and when I drag her toward my face she’s warm and wet and lovely.

She gets the idea quickly when I stick out my tongue. It doesn’t take long - she must have been worked up.

Simon Snow comes riding my face and it’s glorious. I could spend forever here.

She doesn’t let me. Instead she slips off me and wraps me in her arms, burying her face in my messy hair.

We’re still wet and sticky and thoroughly worn out. We haven’t put a label on this and I’m terrified for what it means.

I don’t care. I’d let her ruin me anytime.

And she has.

Simon Snow, beautiful mess.

I love you.


End file.
